I would go so far as to say that as long as everyone is consensual, I don't care what you do or who you do it with. I’ll likely even want to hear about it later.

But not today. Not this one day of all days.

Anzac Day is meant to be a day of respect; a day on which we reflect and remember young men and women who died for their country, and more often than not in the most appalling, heartbreaking, terrifying, degrading of fashions.

'Anzac Day is meant to be a day of respect for those who lost their lives.' (iStock)

You may or may not know that more than 60,000 Australians lost their lives during the first World War. That's more than 60,000 souls lost.

Anzac Day was established as a day of commemoration for those men and women who were largely horrifyingly young and completely out of their depth in every single way. They were brothers and sons and sisters and mothers and friends and lovers and everything in between, and they died for this country.

In 1927, for the first time, every state observed some form of public holiday on April 25.

According to the official government site detailing the day, all the rituals we now associate with April 25—dawn vigils, marches, memorial services, reunions, two-up games—were firmly established as part of Anzac Day culture by the mid 1930s.

Anyone who has spent even the most minimal amount of time in Australia will know we have a deep and well-entrenched drinking culture.

"We are turning what is meant to be a meaningful commemoration into a party." (Instagram)

That’s an issue that needs to be addressed but it’s not the one I am addressing right here, right now. I understand that as a nation we drink far too much and far too often and that we suffer all of the negative consequences that go hand in hand with that.

The issue I am attempting to address is why we must do it on a day that is meant to be about taking a moment and showing respect, these days not just for those lost in WWI, but in active duty of any type.

People died. And they did so, supposedly, so that we might have our freedom.

Perhaps you don’t believe in that, and I am quietly okay with that too. But it does not mean we should be out drinking ourselves into a rowdy and offensive mess in public and turning what is meant to be a meaningful commemoration into a party.

Anzac Day is not the day to drink till you throw up in the street. Any other day but this one. Surely.